


Radio

by bexacaust



Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: Delayed Grieving, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Mentions of dead parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 12:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: It’s hard to call someone evil when you know what they had been through. It’s hard to claim someone is A Bad Person when you know what they carry- what devils hide in their hearts.





	

 

 

 

_The radio seemed to be against him today. He glared, brown eyes surprisingly vicious and haunted; and grabbed the hooked cane that leaned against his desk._

_He held the haft tight, and reached with it to hit the power button-_

_“Aw, but I love this song.”, said Carmeltia from the doorway.  
_

_“…So did dad.”_

Carmelita paused, her expression softening. Sly pulled his cane back, once more leaning it against the desk as he returned to packing the red knapsack he always carried with the essentials: binocucom, oil, spare gloves, lucky lockpick…

The music drifted onwards, slowly swelling towards a crescendo.

“He… danced with mom to this song. At their wedding, he told me.”

“Oh…”, was all Carmelita could say as she walked into the room, shutting the door just enough to make the moment private. Her footsteps were padded and soft as she approached where Sly sat on a backless stool - hunched over and muttering swears under his breath as he repaired suede gloves now with a needle that had a mind of it’s own.

She laid a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Was… was she pretty?”

“Who.”

“Your mama.”

Sly set the glove down, “…Yeah, yeah she was. She was perfect, Lita- you woulda loved her. She liked green apple candies and wore big bangles around her tail. Hated shoes…”

Carmelita giggled, “What about your father?”

“He was always in denial about his age.”, said Sly with a weak laugh, “He’d gone completely gray before I was born, y’know. Told everyone to call him Connor. Could not STAND to be called Mister Cooper, it drove him nuts. He was always laughing at something; always trying to find something funny about the situation…”

Carmelita listened to him talk, moving to stand beside him as he continued. She noticed his hands begins to shake though his voice continued with its near-chipper tone and felt her heart break for him.

He turned on the stool, noticing that… odd look in her dark eyes and suddenly she was leaning down and her arms were around him.

“….I’m so sorry, Sly.”, she whispered, “I’m sorry you lost them, and that I didn’t get to meet them.”

He choked on his words.

“And I’m sorry they didn’t get to see their son, in all his glory.”, she continued, turning her head to nuzzle against his neck, “I know they would have been so proud of you, what you’ve done….”

“Lita, I…”

“It’s okay.”, she whispered against his neck, “It’s okay, now.”

His arms went around her as she sank into his lap; she let him hold tight to her as his tail curled around them both and his shoulders shuddered hard. He had never really mourned, in all this time- instead moving from pursuit to pursuit and now… with nothing to chase, nothing to distract himself there was nothing to stop him from thinking back to that long and loud night when the world fell apart around him.

“It’s okay, Sly.”, she cooed again, one hand stroking over his back, “You’re okay.”

It was so easy to see Master Thief Sly Cooper. So easy to focus on the title and the extravagance and the lone line of perfect felonies but this… this tired creature, this kicked soul was so difficult to find some days- he hid it so well, hid what that kind of trauma could do to him.

This vulnerable side to him, stripped of its frivolities and manipulations- this hurt to see, and she almost wished she couldn’t see it.

It’s hard to call someone evil when you know what they had been through. It’s hard to claim someone is A Bad Person when you know what they carry- what devils hide in their hearts.

Carmelita held him tight, and rocked side to side gently as the soft fur on her shoulder grew damp where his brown eyes leaked diamonds brighter than any he’d ever taken.

And the radio played on.

* * *


End file.
